Of Rodents and Surrounding Events
by Runa93
Summary: A certain case of Holmes left unpublished. Now the truth is revealed at last.
1. Chapter 1

I think it is about time that this story was put down, if only for my peace of mind.

It has been many years since the events I speak of took place. Many rumors have spread and many people have made attempts at guessing what are the details of this most secretive of cases. But Holmes and I had my reasons. The world truly was not prepared then.

I refer, of course, to the Great Rat of Sumatra.

The Great Rat of Sumatra, was indeed a rodent, and a…._different_, is the only way I can put it, one at that, but it is not with it we are concerned. It is with the _effect_ that it produced.

Perhaps I'm not being clear, but if you had been in my place ,dear reader, you would have understood.

As I have said, many years have passed. My body has largely recovered, though I still show faint strains of the _change_ that came over me when Holmes and I pursued the Rat, and am liable to still give Mrs. Hudson slight fits. However, it is dying off and I am glad.

I am dawdling. You will understand now, as I delve into the terrible and grotesque matter of the Great Rat of Sumatra.

----------------

I will not name the year, but the month was October. Winter had begun its steady march and already I could feel the cold settling into my bones and my injured limb. The circumstances were such that the made me rather irritable.

Unsurprisingly, Holmes was in the same state of mind. He never ceased to berate the London criminal's idiocy in not using his advantages at a creeping fog. After hearing this for the seventh continuous evening, my patience, already worn thin by the endless throbbing pain in my leg, snapped.

"Holmes!" I said angrily, and my companion stopped his swift pacing in front of the fire to glare at me. "For God sake's man! I sympathize with your state of mind, but do stop this infernal pacing! The criminals will come in their good time, the whole world does not move according to your wishes! Sit down for a while!"

Harsh words perhaps but one must remember that I had been cooped up with his self for the last _seven_ days listening to the same thing over and over again.

"Watson, I have no need nor wish to _sit down for a while_!" snapped Holmes. "I am thoroughly frustrated and due to you interfering activities, I do not have the solace of the cocaine either!"

I paled a little. "That was for your own good." I said, my voice shaking with anger "I will not see ou destroy your self simply to please your over active mind!"

"What shall I do then? There is no case!"

"A case will come, Holmes. Be patient."

"Do stop your infernal nagging, Doctor!" Holmes sat up straight, and I felt the knot of anger in my stomach tighten. "You offer no stimulating conversation, nor any subjects of interest, yet you expect me to sit quietly, idly! Everyone is not an invalid like you, Watson!"

The moment he said it, I saw that he regretted it, in his eyes. But I was too angry to care. I rose quietly.

"If I am such a disappointing companion," I said quietly, "Perhaps I should leave your presence." And without waiting for his answer, I left.

-----------

The outer streets were cold and forbidding. Scarcely a soul was around and many a time I stopped and looked around, sure I had heard someone. But it was only the rustle of the leaves.

By the time I had walked up till my former practice in Kenningston, my anger had cooled down, and I felt remorseful. Surely I knew better than to provoke Holmes when he was in one of his moods? Perhaps there is still time now to go back and make apologies. He would be ungracious, I knew, even rude, but it was better than losing my dearest friend, surely? A case would come in a day or two, of that I was sure, and then Holmes would turn to his usual self. Slightly cheered by this thought, I turned to head back to Baker Street, and froze as a slight movement caught my eye.

In the darkness, I could only see my breath misting in front of me, but I was sure somebody had just slipped into that alley to my right.

Well, why shouldn't they? Surely there was no reason to suppose the person had to be a criminal. Any ordinary person could go in there too. Just to be safe, I felt for my gun, and cursed when I could not find it. I had forgotten to bring it.

I started slowly walking back to Baker Street, but even as I did so, there was a slight scurry of footsteps, and I turned my head sharply as a figure burst out of the alleyway. My heart jolted when our eyes met because, even from the distance between the streets, I could see two wolf eyes, brilliant gold, looking back at me.

For a moment I was too started to speak. But the next moment, the figure made a strange sign with his front hand(paw?) and I knew no more.

----------------

When I opened my eyes, I immediately realized, despite my confused state, that it could not have been long since I passed out. It was still dark, and the lamps were glowing dimly. Only my strange acquaintance was no where to be seen.

I felt my head and was relieved to find no blood or bump. So I had not been hit then. There was no sign of injury that I could feel on my person either. How had I fainted?

In my befuddled condition, I turned my feet toward Baker Street. But even as I did so, I saw traces of he sky's lightning which I had not seen before. Proof of how long I really had been unconscious.

"Dear God." I murmured. Mrs. Hudson was not going to be happy. I must have been absent at least six hours.

Half an hour later, I arrived at Baker street. Normally this journey takes less time; today I could hardly walk straight and had to walk with one hand on the wall. It was curious. I could not understand what had happened? Was last night a dream? Had some ruffian hit me? But no, I had no injury. Then what-?

The door opened and I collided with the man coming out. I reached out against the wall to steady myself and inexplicably, found someone steadying me.

"Watson!"

"Holmes?" I murmured, swaying slightly, as he helped me in. His face was blurred, but I could already sense his rather apparent anxiety. "Holmes, you-"

"Thank god, I found you!" He interrupted me. His face, now that I could see it clearly, was drawn with lines of strain and his eyes were wide and concerned. "Dear Lord, Watson, you have no idea how much I have been worried! Two hours or so is normal for you when you storm off like that, but God Watson, a _full six hours_! Where have you been?"

"I can hardly tell you that, Holmes." I murmured. "All I can tell you is that I have had a most _bizarre _night."

"Are you hurt?" I felt him check me for injuries.

"No, though I have a really terrible headache." We had entered our sitting room and I sank gratefully onto a chair Holmes had pushed forward.

"Were you attacked?" I felt him rummaging around for the brandy.

"No. At least not in my memory." I gratefully accepted the glass and drank a long gulp. The room came into sharper focus.

"I would prefer that you carried your revolver with you now onwards, Watson." I heard him moving around and knew he was looking for it. "Where is it?"

"In there." I indicated with my drawer with my hand, then froze as there was a loud _crack_! Holmes spun around and we both stared as the drawer shot open and my revolver came skidding to my feet.

**A/N: This is a new genre and I'm not really sure if its applicable in Sherlock Holmes. I'll warn you in advance, this is most likely to be either supernatural or sci-fi or fantasy, three genres that **_**definitely **_**do not fit in with Sherlock Holmes. It sounded like a good challenge and I couldn't resist taking it up. **

**For those who read my other fics, **_**Colors of Life and Sherlock's Fears **_**will be updated soon. However I want your permission to delete **_**Sister Dear **_**from my list of fics as I have quite lost the 'groove'.**

**Please Read and Review and tell me how I may improve it!**

**Thank you!**__


	2. Chapter 2

I stared numbly at the revolver in my hand, while Holmes checked the drawer.

It weighed the same, and I felt the old familiarity as I turned it over in my hand. The light reflected of the metal.

_Then why…?_

"It must have been the wind." The words escaped me, even as I though how idiotic they sounded. Wind can't force shut drawers to shoot open like that _and place the article I required at my feet_.

Holmes shook his head. "The windows are shuttered."

That too.

I glanced wearily at Holmes, who had still not moved from his position beside the drawer. He was intently examining its hinges.

"Holmes," I felt inclined to point out, "There's nothing wrong with the hinges. Besides, damaged hinges can't make a drawer…do what it just did."

"Thank you, Watson. I do know that." I frowned at his customary sarcasm, but he ignored me. He got to his feet, and turned around to look at me. "Watson, what happened to you last night?"

I swallowed. "I-I do not know."

His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

_How can I tell him…a man-wolf….he'll-he'll….._

"Watson?"

_What will he say? _

"Watson? What is the matter?"

_He won't believe me…_

A strong hand gripped my shoulder. I looked up at a pair of questioning grey eyes.

_He's worried…_

I shook my head. "I do not remember anything, Holmes." I said, my voice calm and confident. "Somebody struck me while I was returning and I fainted. When I awoke it was morning."

His eyes bored into me. I could tell that he did not believe me. "Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Then how do you account for the puncture mark on your neck?" He indicated the side of my neck.

I reached back and touched my neck. My fingers found a tiny hole. My eyes widened.

_A syringe!_

"It seems," said Sherlock Holmes, "that we are about to be embark on a most interesting case."

---------------

Half an hour later, I leaned back into the sofa, completely exhausted. Holmes's questioning had been extensive, delving into everything I remembered. When was it? Where? How did my 'attacker' look like? Did he say anything? How long had I passed out. (At this point I got irritated and asked him to calculate the hours himself).

He was now standing at the window, smoking his tenth cigarette a row. He looked back at me, slumped across the sofa, and a frown creased his forehead.

"I am sorry, Watson." He said, walking back to me, "I have tired you." He retrieved a blanket from the floor and draped it over me. A few seconds later, I felt him sink cautiously down at the section of the sofa near my feet. "Alright now?"

I merely nodded, being too exhausted to formulate reply. A second later I heard the match strike and his eleventh cigarette being lit. "Holmes, that is unhealthy." I murmured.

He chucked. "Ever the doctor." There was a flick and a _whoosh_ as the cigarette landed in the fire. It was a moment before I realized that he had actually listened to me.

"You-?"

"I think there is only one explanation left for this case." He continued matter-of-factdly as if there had been no break between now and our conversation half an hour ago.

"And that is?"

"The syringe." I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was sitting in a hunched position, that far seeing look in his eyes, which only appeared when he exerted his full powers. "They must have injected something into you."

I pushed myself up and stared at him. "Injected? Is that what is causing these…these….occurrences?"

"Watson you are a medical man." Holmes looked at me seriously. "Tell me, do you know of any drug that can bring about such changes?"

I thought carefully. "There is…something." I said, carefully. Holmes sat up straighter and looked at me, his eyes intent. "But, really, Holmes, the probability of that being used is well….very low."

"Tell me everything you know of it." He demanded.

"Well, its, its not a drug exactly, more like a soothing balm. I came across it in India, in one of its more remote villages. Its from a plant called _Sonishita_ and is revered across the land for being an excellent medicinal plant. It-it does have some curious _side _effects though." I paused, hesitating, but Holmes merely nodded. "Go on."

"The first time I came across it, we, my fellow soldier and I, had been badly wounded in a skirmish. The attackers left us for the dead, and we were found by these villagers. The Legendary village of the Dead, the natives call it. I…never went there. Half through the journey, I collapsed, and was left in the middle in of the jungle. Peterson, the soldier who was with me, went with them. A few hours later, my native servants found me and dragged me back."

"What of Peterson?"

"He came back to our camp a week later, raving mad, babbling about a plant called 'Death's betrayal'. We tried to keep him locked up, but he escaped and we never saw him since." I looked anxiously at Holmes, wondering what he would make of my lurid tale, but he was listening gravely. He understood my hesitance, and smiling faintly, said, "I believe you. Go on. How did you find out about the plant?"

"After this incident, I did a bit of questioning among the natives. Most of them were reluctant to speak about this "Village of the Dead" but from the information I gleaned from them, I understood that it was a small village located at the edge of the Thar Desert. The villagers were…queer, and revered the dead, though I could not get them to explain what it meant. The _Sonishita_ is a plant grown by them, and by methods only they know. It had incredible healing powers, but, from what I could understand, it causes some changes. What changes, I do not know." I looked at Holmes again. "Well?"

"It is an interesting tale," he said slowly. "One with certain unique points in it." He smiled wryly at his own understatement.

"Do you think this plant to be responsible then?"

"I cannot be sure, without further research. As you do not know the effects of the plant, we cannot take any steps now." He got to his feet. "There is nothing to be done. Tomorrow we will examine the changes in you in more detail. For now, my advice for you, Watson, is a good long sleep."

I thought of my bedroom, of the empty rooms, and the village of the Dead revisiting me in my nightmares. I shuddered.

Holmes smiled. "I thought as much." He remarked, picking up his violin, and sinking into his armchair. "Perhaps it will be better if you rest here."

"But, what if a client…"

"There is a more important one at the moment." I opened my mouth to respond to this curiously out of character statement, but he started playing Mozart, soft and sweet, and I floated into a blissful dreamless sleep.

**A/N: The Village Of the Dead is a myth in Indian Mythology. But **_**Sonishita **_**is completely made up. **

**I know you're thinking that it's the Great Rat of **_**Sumatra **_**not India, but have patience, everything will be revealed in due time. **

**Also, I'm such a bad researcher, I have no clue whether Watson ever went to India or not. I know he went up to Afghanistan. If he didn't, lets please pretend that he did. **

**Also, I'm completely unsure of whether Mozart can be played on violins or not. I meant to ask Kaizoku shoujo about this, but I'm absolutely terrified of approaching her(C'mon, she's such a great writer) so never got around it. **

**One last thing (about time!): There's one line here which isn't mine. I've picked it up from one of KCS's fics. I didn't realize it until I had put it in, but it sounded too good to take out so I didn't. See if you can spot it!**

**One absolute last thing(sheesh, the author note is getting longer than the story): Holmes's and Watson is still on the building grounds here. That's why Holmes is some times cold and Watson still a little hesitant about approaching him.**

**If you liked, please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

"_You were successful?" The question was phrased delicately. An eyebrow quirked up at the sight of the figure's stony expression. "But of course, you always are."_

"_Yes, my lord." _

"_How did he react?" A gloved hand reached out and plucked a grape from the silver bowl placed in front of him. _

"_He fainted." _

_There was a chuckle. "Did he now? Far less resilience than I granted him, I see."_

"_It was not the drug, my lord." The figure looked up for the first time. The feeble light in the room did not show enough of his face, but the wolf like features were clear enough._

"_Oh? What was it then?"_

"_Marfusus had already reached there." _

_The figure sensed his master leaning forward. "He did? Did he see then?"_

"_Yes my lord." _

"_And the doctor…?"_

"_He too, my lord. The shock must have been too much."_

"_I see." He smiled at the figure. "Brothers. Such troublesome people, aren't they?"_

_The figure gave no answer._

_His master sank back into his chair, white hair pooling beside him. A gust of wind blew back a strand, revealing gold ringlets which spun merrily. Dark violet eyes looked down upon his 'subjects'. _

"_You may go now, Victor." The Master looked dreamily up at the high ceiling, from where two glowing eyes were watching. "I don't think Sultana can hold herself anymore. Let us not tempt her any longer." Victor bowed and backed away. "Oh, and Victor? Send Deborah to me. I must speak to her regarding her dismal failure earlier this month."_

"_Yes, my lord." The door swung shut behind him._

_There was a swish and the large tiger landed gracefully beside the Master. It purred deeply as the Master petted her. _

"_You're such a good girl, Empress." He whispered. "So good of you not to eat him yet. We still do need him. After that….I promise." _

_The tiger snarled softly as if agreeing with him. The Master smiled. "You don't like wolves very much do you? Don't worry, his time will come." His smile widened. "We'll have a new member joining us soon; do you know that, Empress? Very soon." _

_There was a swish and the door opened and the frightened girl was pushed in. Her eyes were pale yellow, flecked with gold and now, wide and terrified. _

"_M-My lord." _

"_Hello Debbie." _

_And with a bound the white tiger leapt onto its prey. _

----------------------

"It must be metal." Holmes threw me back the revolver for the umpteenth time. I sighed.

"Holmes, we've been over this a thousand times. _Yes_, it is metal. Does that satisfy you now?"

"Lets see again."

I sighed again and extended my palm, the revolver flat on it. There was a slight vibration as I closed my eyes and concentrated all my willpower onto it.

Then slowly, the lightness which I felt when I was successful, permeated every fiber in my being. And, slowly, but irrevocably, I felt the revolver lift of my palm.

When I opened my eyes it was hanging there in mid air.

"There!" I said triumphantly. "What did I tell you?" There was a clatter and the gun fell on the floor between us.

"It seems a lot of it depends on your concentration." Holmes said critically, picking up the revolver again.

"_And _lightness of the metal."

"And this affects no other object apart from those made of metal."

"_Yes._" As if he hadn't already observed this the entire evening!

"Hmm." Holmes turned the revolver over in his palm, as if inspecting it for some kind of fault. I leaned back into my chair and watched him.

On the desk in front of us lay an array of items; Holmes's snuffbox, pipe, several pins, a bullet or two( Which caused rather a nasty accident when it shot out of my control and smashed into the wall) a few pencils and some coins. Only those which were made of metal or had some metal component in it, had I been successful with. The rest had been stubbornly resilient, Hence our above conclusion.

"It seems alright." Holmes out my revolver back onto the table. He was frowning slightly.

"Of course its alright." I said. "The problem isn't with it, it is with _me_."

Holmes glanced at me, but I barely looked at him. I was trying to remember whatever all I remembered about…_mutants._

I had heard of them of course, but such reports were few and rare. Doctors studying them were less and it was a subject few raised. I had heard of children being born with freakish powers, unnatural deformities. They disappeared quickly from society and I shuddered to think what was done to them.

But a fully grown adult man? Could such changes have been wrought in him _now?_ My doubts regarding my strange encounter was rapidly decreasing, but _how _and _what-_

"Watson!" I started out of my thoughts to find a very irritated consulting detective glaring at me from across the room. "Yes, Holmes?"

"Do try to concentrate, doctor, we're nearing the conclusion of this strange phenomena." He had bunched together all the metallic items in middle of the table. "There is one last trial left."

"What is it?"

"We have already confirmed that your realm is entirely metal. However we have yet to confirm the _extent_ of it." He pointed at the objects on the table. "I want you to lift them together." He looked at me "Can you do it?"

"I think so." I lifted my hand. One metal was just another, wasn't it?

The familiar tingling ran down my spine and I heard Holmes's intake of breath, which meant I was successful.

But this time another sensation raced down the length of my side. My concentration slipped and floundered, I heard a clatter as one or two objects fell.

"Watson?"

The unpleasant sensation grew until I could identify it as a sharp stabbing pain. The same time, my surgeon's instincts sensed blood.

With a cry I jerked my hand back and there was a _crash_ as all the objects fell on the floor. I staggered back and felt Holmes's hand catch my arm and keep me from falling. Then I heard him gasp. His eyes were wide and were fixed onto my side.

I looked down and saw that my entire side was splattered with thick dark blood.

**A/N: Sorry this should have gone up on Sunday but my computer cranked out as usual. **

**Just wanted to leave a note here that if you think Holmes is being a little cold here its because like I said their friendship is still new and he still thinks this little matter to be in form of an 'experiment'. But of course, Watson will change that.**


	4. Chapter 4

_They had got him. He had been too late. _

_The man- no not a man. He looked nothing like a man. His golden eyes flickered their desperation and his were stretched to a point. This was no man; this was a –a- …_

_A monster!_

_Marfusus bent his head trying to force the words out of his head. _

_A monster, a monster…._

"_I am a man." He had sobbed, bracing the sticks and stones thrown at him. Unwittingly the old Shakespearean line ran across his mind._

"_If you prick me, do I not bleed?"_

"_I AM A MAN!!" The world did not understand, could not understand…_

"_**Marfusus? Marfusus, stop crying and come play with me." A boy held out his hand, a smile glimmering on his face. **_

"_**Come on, Marfusus, we can play wolf-wolf again! This time you can be leader! Its okay, I know a street where no one will notice us…"**_

_Victor…_

_What will bring you back to me, brother?_

_The rain had stopped. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up. Echidna smiled down at him. Green scales glittered. _

"_Come along now, Massster Marfusssusss. The othersss are waiting." _

_He had failed. But he would not allow them to succeed. He would not._

_He would get his brother back even if it killed him. _

_-----------_

The blood dripped and slid silently to the floor. The minutes ticked by. Nobody spoke a word until I felt my voice return to me.

"What the…."

But Holmes was already pressing a his handkerchief against my side, his other hand bracing me.

"Sit down."

I did so obediently. My entire head was in a whirl with the events of the past day. My side throbbed with dull agony but it seemed far off and distant…

"It's a deep wound." Holmes's voice was calm and assured but I could tell that he was more than a little shaken. "I have stopped the bleeding for the time being, but…"

"My kit is upstairs." I said, guessing what he wanted. He nodded and got to his feet. "Hold it for a while." Then he was gone.

I stared out into the silence, trying to arrange my thoughts into something resembling coherence, all the while the question burning away in my mind.

_How was I wounded? _

I remembered nothing striking me. The door and windows were closed, no missile could have entered. But the wound was clearly there….

Was this more evidence of my so called powers?

"Here" I started. I had not realized that Holmes had entered the room. He was holding out my kit to me, an awkward expression on his face. I realized he probably never had the opportunity to perform this service for anyone. I took it from him, smiling.

"Thank you. I'll do it myself."

To my surprise, he seated himself very carefully on the sofa and held his hand out. "I can do it."

I was touched. "Holmes, thank you, but, really, its fine. I've done this many times before."

"It is my responsibility this time." He began to gently clean the wound with the disinfectant, silently cleaning away the traces of blood.

"Your responsibility? Holmes, surely you don't think all this is your fault?"

He gave no answer but continued his cleaning. That gave me my answer.

"You do, don't you? Holmes, that is ridiculous. You can't seriously think-"

"I told you to use your powers, Watson." He answered evenly, putting the now blood sodden cloth away and pulling out bandages. "Therefore, I am directly to blame."

"You can't look at such things in that kind of way Holmes. I had done this before today. How were you to know this one was going to be more different?"

"I should have known. The amount involved was far more than before."

"Holmes…"

"Enough. There shall be no more discussion on this subject for the time being." He finished his job and stood back. "What do you think?"

I examined the bandaging with interest. It was quite well done, especially for an amateur done. "Its very good. How did you learn to do this?"

"My career brings me in contact with the many kinds of people." He smiled. "Skills of this sort are required."

I shook my head marveling at his reaches once again. "Sometimes I just can't get your depth."

When I looked up I saw that my words had stirred him. A bit of color tinged his cheek bones and he turned to face the window. When he spoke it was in a low voice, "It is the other way around, my dear fellow."

I blinked, and then smiled, touched by this odd compliment.

He coughed and abruptly changed the subject. "At least this entire exercise was not completely fruitless."

"What do you mean?"

"Your …ability, it draws its strength from your body." He turned towards me, and under the cold exterior of his eyes I could sense that he was troubled. He nodded towards my side. "That was the cost."

_Everything has a price._

At last I spoke. "If so, why didn't it happen when I did it before?"

"Perhaps then it was within your limits." He had turned towards the window and I could not see his expression anymore. "And then you were less exhausted."

I looked down at my hand, and saw faint bruises and scratches on it; ones that I had not noticed before. Suddenly everything seemed to have spiraled out of control. "What do I do now?" The question was almost child like in itself, but I was so distraught then I could not care what Holmes see at the moment.

Holmes turned once again from the window, his face set. He raised his cigarette silently and lit it. As he blew the smoke silently away, I noted the determination in his expression.

"Do you intend to-?"

"I intend to get to the bottom of this, Watson." Each word was clearly and sharply defined and his eyes shown with that fanatical light when his enthusiasm for a quest was at its peak. I merely nodded.

"I would like to join you, if I could." My question was impulsive, but I had never asked to join a case before. This was new territory for me.

"But of course." Holmes was smiling at me. Not the cold smile he reserved for duty. This was a genuine smile and I felt my heart left at it. He threw his cigarette into the fire and then spoke, "Of course you must come, Watson. I would be lost before my Boswell."

He had spoken these words before and I heard them again. It was to these words I clung to, in the events that followed in the coming weeks, and it was these words from which I derived the comfort to keep on going .It was these words which taught me that no matter, Holmes would never abandon me.

It was the warmth of a friend that kept me alive and to this I am grateful for it.

**A/N: This story is starting to turn into a lot of trouble. Firstly, thanks a lot all of you for sticking with me. Secondly can I know if the word 'mutant' existed in Victorian vocabulary. Wikipedia isn't being of much help here. Thirdly, I know the first part may be a tiny bit confusing, but don't worry everything will be explained soon.**

**Also, as a request from KCS, I'm not making you wait another week for the new chapter. My exams just got over today, so I can put this up. But form next week onwards the once a week thing is likely to ensue. **

**If you liked please please please review. (Ok I admit it, I really like reviews)**

T**hank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

"_We must act fasssst." Echidna's scales glittered in the faint sunlight, and she twisted her head as she spoke. Marfusus remained quiet as all in the assembly glanced his way._

"_Perhaps we can…take him. By force." All heads swiveled towards the young girl standing in the corner, her eyes a pale yellow, flecked with gold. She crossed her arms and looked defiantly onto the assembly. "That is the only way. That is how The Master was going to take him." _

"_We are not the Massstersss minionsss,Elizabeth ." Snapped Echidna, "We do not advocate kidnappingssss."_

"_Then what must we do?" Elizabeth snapped back. "We must get to him before the others do!"_

"_Lizzie, have you heard from Debbie recently?"Elizabeth looked at Marfusus in surprise. His glance was still fixated on the door of their hideout. _

"_I-no, but you know how she is, she's probably scared stiff of contacting me again. We should wait a couple of wee-"_

"_You're sure she's not dead then?" The question came from a tall man standing at the other end of the room. He cocked his head and looked at the girl's face, which had drained of all color. "Well?"_

"_No she isn't." Her breath came fast and unsteadily._

"_How do you know? She could be? She never was any-"_

"_Be quiet!!!" Lizzie covered her ears but could not stop from hearing Marfusus's words._

"_I fear she may be, Lizzie."_

"_W-What?"_

"_Think about it. He is making preparations for John's arrival; therefore he will see fit to remove any unneeded 'part' of his group."_

"_Debbie isn't useless!"_

"_Maybe not to us but certainly to him. He probably already suspects a traitor in his group. Why else the failure of so many of his missions? And Debbie never was the best at deception."_

"_Are you saying that-that-"_

_There was a clear silence in the room and Lizzie's voice rang out hysterically. "Debbie's dead??!!" _

_All in the room looked away from Elizabeth's tear strained face as sobs started to shake her frame. They had seen death all too often in the past few weeks to be moved by it. _

" _Esther's dead too, Lizzie." Said the tall man harshly. He was viewing her tears with something close to disdain. "And so are James, Carla, David and the others. You didn't see us make such a fuss about it." _

"_W-Why Debbie? She was just a little girl!"_

"_No younger than you are! And she was a right little fool, she was!"_

"_Don't you talk that way about her!"_

"_I'll talk in any way I want to!"_

"_Stop it, the both of you." Marfusus stood up. "Bickering isn't going to get us anywhere." _

_The tall man whirled around to face him, eyes flashing. " Marfusus-"_

"_Edgar." Echidna walked, or rather slithered, to the middle of the room. "That isss enough."_

_Edgar looked mutinous. The rest were quiet. Finally Elizabeth broke the silence. _

"_Now what are we going to do?" She had mastered herself though silent tears still slid down her cheeks. Her question was directed at Marfusus. _

"_Find John." His answer was simple, direct._

_Edgar's eyes narrowed. "John, eh?" he sneered. "And who is this precious John of yours, may we know? He must be someone important for you to be hell bent on retrieving him." _

_Marfusus frowned. "Actually, I'm not completely sure. Based on the information that we received from Deb-our spy, it seems that the Master seems really intent of getting him to join. Seems like they had some connection in the past."_

"_Connection?" Echidna echoed the question placed by the silent audience. "What connection?"_

"_I don't know. But-" Marfusus looked out of the window towards the slowly darkening sky, "I do know this. If the Master wants him to join his group, I think then we want to prevent it as much as possible."_

_---------------------------------------_

I spent most of the next day dozing in my chair. My wound had sapped me of most of my energy and barely had the energy to get up. I have blurred recollections of Holmes moving around in his bedroom and Mrs. Hudson bending over me, concern etched on her kind features…

"….this normal?" Mrs. Hudson, in the hushed voice she was apt to use when Holmes was in one of his fits. Only it wasn't Holmes this time but me.

"It is normal for what he's been through." Holmes's voice this time. But worry tinged it, an alien element. I twisted my head around tiredly in order to get a better look at him, and immediately felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Sleep, Watson."

And almost immediately I drifted off to dreamland.

It must have been hours later when I woke. The lamps were lit on the street outside. The fire was lit, merrily casting a warm light all over the room. Holmes was sitting across me, in his armchair, dressed once more in his dressing gown, pasting something into his scrapbook. He looked up when I stirred, and though he simply nodded and motioned me closer to the fire, I noticed that his eyes seemed to smile.

Or perhaps I was just being ridiculous.

"How did your investigation go?" It was too warm and cozy to move and I stayed where I was, looking across at my companion who had curled up in his armchair(so exactly like a cat, I couldn't help thinking.)

Holmes put his scrapbook down and picked up his pipe. "We have to make a primary beginning somewhere." He said, stuffing it untidily with tobacco, "One cannot simply pick up the middle of the thread to begin an investigation. Unfortunately in this case, it is difficult to distinguish middle from beginning. However I soon found a potential starting."

"That is?"

"Your late companion. Peterson." Holmes said, seeing the surprise on my face. "It was with him that the whole affair started."

"Yes, but Holmes, how can you be really sure that Peterson really is involved? As far as I know, he's dead and gone. That was an isolated incident, no doubt. I merely mentioned it as you wanted my experience of plants affecting such symptoms."

"Agreed. But you must also agree that the little incident had elements of the strange and remarkable, surely? And hence it cannot be completely unconnected with this little matter. I, for one, did not disregard it."

"Very well. What did you find?"

"Nothing, of much interest, to be truthful. Nor had I expected much. The few records I found of him show him to a hard working officer, of your caliber, and unmarried. The last records says that he died of an 'unnamed illness' in India. There is no mention of you."

"Well that can be expected as well."

"True. However, what I want to know is not what the official records say of Peterson. I want to hear of your views of him. You after all knew him. The personal experience is always more rich in detail."

"Ah yes." I hesitated. The truth was that I remembered precious little of Peterson. He and I had never been particularly close. But before I could begin to explain this, there was a knock on the door.

Holmes looked up annoyed, as Mrs. Hudson entered. "If it is a client please tell them that I am not available at the moment Mrs. Hudson."

"I couldn't stop him, Mr. Holmes. He said it was most urgent and that he had too see you immediately. He sent his card ahead." Sure enough there was a heavy tread on the stairs even as Holmes took the card from the tray.

"Watson, take a look at this." Puzzled I took the card from him. It wasn't really a card, more of a piece of paper cut rectangular. But this wasn't what affected me. On it were the words

MARFUSUS

Order of Rebel Mutants

**A/N: Happy New Year everyone! **


	6. Chapter 6

I'm afraid that my first instinct was to laugh.

_Order of Rebel Mutants?_

I instinctively turned to Holmes, only to see him sit bolt upright and motion towards Mrs. Hudson. "Let him in".

In truth there was no need for him to say that, for even as Mrs. Hudson turned, there was a slight creak and our door inched open, and our guest entered.

I felt my body go taut with shock.

He was tall, quite tall. He had to bend down to enter our room. His attire was that of a long robe which ended in a hood which covered his entire body and ended in a hood which was pulled over his head, hiding his entire face.

He looked up and his wolf eyes fixed onto mine.

"You!"

_Marfusus looked with amusement at the scene in front of him. John had leapt away from him, knocking his chair in the process. His face was pale, lined with strain. _

_So he remembered me……_

_His attention turned to the other man, who had sprung from his chair at the same time as John's. He was now standing next to him, his hand on his friend's arm, talking calmly soothingly, occasionally darting little glances at his direction. _

_Marfusus knew that he had seen more than he had shown. His face remained calm, but his eyes gave him away when he turned to look at John. They held a curious mixture of worry and reassurance for his friend. _

_So this was the celebrated Sherlock Holmes was it? Interesting…._

_The tall thin detective was facing him again, his hand on his friend's shoulder. John looked shaken, his fist clenched as he looked at Marfusus. His breathing was quick and shallow. _

"_Have you been experimenting?" Marfusus couldn't stop himself. The words just came out. He needed to know. Because if John would have been experimenting, then the Master-_

_Holmes stepped forward. His voice was balanced, as he spoke. "What do you want?"_

I think my sudden movement startled Holmes. Or came to as close as startling him s I had ever seen.

But…it was _him_. How could I explain the horror I fell. The wolf…the _man…_

"Watson, calm down." I felt Holmes's hand on my shoulder. He was looking at our 'guest', but he kept his hand on my shoulder. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Amidst it I heard Holmes's ask, "What do you want?"

It was a simple question, but I saw that the man had not missed the hidden ones either. He tilted his head, and smiled gently.

"I want many things, Mr. Holmes…"he looked at Holmes, challenging him, but there was no reply, "but most I doubt even if you could fulfill. But what I want now is what you want."

_What I wanted….Marfusus felt a mixture of amusement and bitterness at the question. The detective's eyes challenged him. _

_I want many things, Mr. Detective. Can you truly fulfill them all? I want my brother back, I want the Master dead, I want riddance from my 'curse', but of course, I cannot be rid that can I? Every man must accept his burden and mine is just heavier than the others. As…_

_He turned his eyes on John. Yes, he had been experimenting. He looked weak, drained. _

_As yours is to become, Dr. Watson._

_But the detective was still waiting and he hadn't opened his mouth. So he gave the most clichéd answer of all. _

"_I want, what you want."_

"And that is?" I could tell from Holmes's voice that he was amused by the man's daring. Also that line. In heaven's name, how many criminals had used it so far? And always just before offering money.

The man leaned forward and inclined his head towards me. "The reason for your friend's illness."

" I'm not ill!" I snapped before I could stop myself. Again Holmes held up his arm. "Calm, Watson."

I clenched my hand, feeling ashamed for my outburst. "I'm sorry."

"Its quite alright." It was the man who had spoken. I looked at him in surprise. His eyes held some unfathomable emotion.

"Many of us are called animals, or ill or dangerous. But we are not." He looked away, as if ashamed of showing so much of himself. The he added in a low voice. "We are as much human….as anybody else."

I felt a deep sorrow radiate from him, and thought, He lived with that body his entire life. He must have been shunned. He must have been hated. And yet…

And suddenly I was deeply ashamed of suspecting him before.

But before I could say anything, Holmes spoke, "What do you have to tell us?" he motioned towards the fire. "Come; sit and speak your mind."

The man nodded. "Thank you." He stepped forward.

There was a massive explosion. And I remembered nothing else.

**A/N: Sorry for this going up late guys! Hope you like it. Oh, and Watson seems a little OOC, its because he's a little frightened by the situation. He maybe a army surgeon, but this is a different situation altogether!**

**Please Read and Review! **


	7. Chapter 7

_Victor stepped through the debris. The smoke was rising. The people would notice soon. He must hurry, hurry…._

_Through the haze he made out the slumped form of his brother. His heart missed a beat. He quickedned his steps, but stopped. A low groan rose from the body. So he was alive. _

_Thank God. _

"_You cannot come with me yet, Marfusus." Not yet. The Master would give the signal. Then, only then…._

_He shook his head, banishing the thoughts. Peering through the smoke, he spotted the doctor. His body had been mostly protected by an overturned armchair. Good. The Master would be pleased._

_Victor pulled him up, so that the doctor's body was mostly leaning on his own. The pulse was steady but faint. A steady stream of red trickled down his face. So he was not as unhurt as he thought…_

_The cold steel of a gun pressed on his neck. He froze._

"_Let go of Watson." The voice was as cold as the steel. Victor felt the gun press in more insistently. He loosened his grip slightly. Watson's body hung precariously. _

"_Carefully!" snapped the voice. The gun was shaking slightly, he could feel that. He could also hear the stead thud of the person's accelerated heartbeat. He was frightened, but his breathing was steadier than what could be expected. A person of nerves then. _

_He had not yet let go of the doctor. The gun steadied itself, now at his skull. "I said, Put him down. Now." _

_Victor swung around._

_His claws tore through his attackers arms, ripping apart cloth and skin. There was a cry of pain, and a flash of red. The tall gaunt man staggered away, clutching his arm. He looked up and Victor felt a thrill of fear race down his body. _

_They were the color of slate, cold steel, which looked at him mercilessly, emotionlessly. No, that wasn't quite right, he could sense emotion. Radiating from the man's body, like heat. _

_Anger. Pure, cold anger. _

"_Holmes?" There was a soft noise behind him. He whirled around to see the doctor conscious. He had fallen to the floor during the attack and that had jolted him back to consciousness. He was not yet steady, his blurry vision told that much. But he had seen enough. _

"_Holmes, what on earth-?" Watson's exclamation was cut short as a fist of steel slammed into his chest. There was a cry of rage behind him. Victor had moved too fast, Watson's friend had not seen, could not have seen. _

_A hand caught his arm and he was jerked back. Without pausing to think, he drove all five claws into the hand which promptly let go as the man staggered back. _

_He was a nuisance. But there was no time now. _

_He hauled the doctor up, and leapt from the flat. People were already milling around, talking chattering. There was several screams, and the people scattered as he fled through them. There was no time, the Master would have to deal with them. He looked back once. _

_Standing against the silhouette of 221b Baker street, Sherlock Holmes looked down at his fleeing figure. He was clutching his ravaged arm, but his eyes burned with fury and a terrible, terrible fear. _

_And suddenly Victor was very afraid. _

_Then Baker Street turned around the corner and he was gone. _

"They took Watson." Marfusus looked up silently at the man slumped against the ravaged walls of Baker Street.

People were gathering around but Holmes looked at his hands. He didn't seem to hear the noise. "They _took_ Watson. And I couldn't stop them."

Marfusus got to his feet. Holmes looked at him silently. The look was enough. "You owe me some explanations."

Marfusus nodded. "I know. But not here. "

"Where then?"

"Come with me. I'll show you. And tell you everything."

Holmes got to his feet and took his gun silently. His arm was a mess. Rivulets of blood ran down.

"Your arm. You need to get it tended to."

"Later."

Marfusus hesitated. But behind that cold exterior he sensed a will of iron. The man had changed swiftly in less than half an hour.

_Is John that important to him?_

"Come."

Holmes indicated the broken door. "After you."

**A/N: First I would like to apologise to everyone about the last chapter. I had a terrible week so it wasn't particularly satisfactory. But I'm too lazy to rewrite tit. But the next chapters will be up to your expectations! (I hope!)**

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

_The Master regarded the limp burden at his feet with something close to satisfaction. It had been nearly three hours since he had been taken and the doctor showed no sign of waking. He's complexion was pale and his lips were moist with blood. The Master frowned a little. _

"_Victor." He murmured, turning to the hooded figure that stood at his side silently, "Did you strike him?" _

_Victor shifted uneasily. "I had no choice, Master." He said. "He was beginning to wake. He might have put up a fight. Bringing him back would have been difficult."_

_The Master nodded slowly, _almost _looking satisfied, but Victor's eyes were drawn to the tiger who sat beside him. Her ears twitched and she turned her head to regard him majestically, pupils narrowing. Victor shuddered. The Master was _not _happy. _

_The Master turned his attention back to the unconscious Watson. "Put him into Debbie's room. If he wakes drug him again. Keep him quiet."_

"_Yes, Master." _

"_And Victor," the Master's cold eyes bored into Victor's, "See that he does not escape."_

"_Yes, Master."_

_As Victor left the room, the Master turned to his tiger who purred as he rested a hand on her silken fur. "See he came, just as I said he would, isn't that so, my pretty?" he whispered to Sultana. "And soon, very soon…"_

Holmes tugged at the dark blindfold covering his eyes. Only he could not feel any. There was no cloth of any kind covering his eyes. Yet his eyes were open and he could not see. Something was obstructing his vision.

"I dislike being led like this." He said coldly to his guide, whom he remembered being a young girl of eighteen. She had appeared when he and that unknown Marfusus had entered an alley. The next moment he has being pulled by the arm, unable to see. At least he could still move his hands.

"Sorry." He heard Marfusus say. "But we cannot risk revealing our hideout to you."

"I am not your enemy." _Not yet, _he added silently to himself.

"In this world, Mr. Holmes, everyone is our enemy." Marfusus's voice was sharp and Holmes felt himself stiffen. On the other side, the girl's grip on his arm tightened. "Not now Marfusus. " She sounded frightened. "Wait till we get there."

Marfusus remained silent; though Holmes could tell that he was unconsciously fuming. After a pause, he said quietly, "I apologize."

Holmes inclined his head. He could feel that they were turning into alley. Heaven knows how many they had already passed. "Where are you taking me exactly?"

"Where we live."

"And the purpose of going there is?"

"Mr. Holmes, you have had no occasion to work with people like us, I trust?"

"People of your capabilities? No."

"Then, in order to rescue Dr. Watson, your powers, remarkable as they must be, will not be enough."

Watson. Pain flooded Holmes's heart. Loyal faithful Watson. He clenched his fist. "Then it is your intention to help me in this?"

"Yes."

"Why? What concerns have you over Watson? Was it not you who caused this in the first place?" Holmes's voice was as sharp as a shard of glass with ice like brittleness.

The girl to his right stiffened quickly. Holmes sensed her turning her head quietly, in direction of the conversation.

Then Marfusus spoke. "This is something, "he said slowly, "that I must discuss later." He put his hand on Holmes's shoulder and pressed quietly. Then said aloud, "We have reached."

They stopped. Holmes could not tell where they were. There was no sound, not even a breath of air. Holmes felt the girl leave his arm and step forward. There was a sound like a gust of air and a hiss.

"Its us, Echidna."

There was another hiss and low rumbling, as if a door had slid open. Holmes felt himself propelled forward, and as he did so, Marfusus bent forward and said quietly in his ear, "Safe to say, Mr. Holmes, I have an unpaid debt to John Watson." Louder he spoke again, as Holmes grasped the words. "Take the Shadow off him, Lizzie."

Holmes blinked as his vision cleared. Though the room was dark there was sufficient light and he raised an arm to shield his eyes. As he did so, Marfusus spoke.

"Welcome, Mr. Holmes, to my home."

On moving his arm, a roomful of people looked unsmilingly back at him.

**A/N: As you can probably tell, writing Holmes from third person is really tough from me. So I apologize for the second part. It wasn't really satisfying *sigh* but I can't write it any better. Sorry for the anticlimactic ending! **

**Oh and i completed a whole year on this site a soetime back in March but i clean forgot! So I'll announce it now: I've now officially a member of fanfiction for a Year and a couple of days!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

_Watson's POV_

When I awoke, a sickly smell assailed my senses. Pushing myself upright, I noticed two things; One, that my hands had been bound securely with rope, and two, I was in a room in pitch black darkness and absolute silence.

No, not absolute silence. There was a soft scuffling sound to my far left. I turned my head sharply, and the sound stopped.

"Who is there?" I cannot deny that I felt frightened. I was afraid, very much so. It was an unknown and uncontrollable situation. My memories were blurred and vague, the last being of Holmes-

I sat bolt upright. Holmes!

Had he been captured as well? I looked around frantically but caught no sight of him. Perhaps he had escaped. That was good. I breathed a sigh of relief, and stretched out a foot-

- and instantly recoiled it when it brushed against something warm and furry and _wet_.

"Who is there?" I repeated, hardly daring to breathe. The thing or creature near my bed (and I had by now noticed that I lay on a bed made of assorted hay and grass) moved back slowly, uttering a low grunt.

"Doctor?" A door opened and I instantly shut my eyes, as bright light flooded the room. I heard scurrying footsteps and squeals of protest; Clearly my strange companion did not like the light.

There were footsteps, footsteps of a person wearing bots. Clearly a 'person' then. I opened my eyes hesitantly, and a figure stepped in front of the light. I gasped.

"You! You came-"

But the words died in my throat as soon as I uttered them, because instantly I spotted the minute differences which made this 'man' different from our visitor at Baker Street.

The hair was too short, cut neatly above his neck, while his had continued till his shoulders, the face well shaven, and the eyes narrowed in suspicion and dislike.

But the rest was the same, the golden wolf like eyes, the ears tilting away covered in hair, the hands with claws…I swallowed sharply. The man saw that and grinned, showing rows of white teeth.

"Devilish, aren't they?" He remarked, bringing his hand up to the light and I winced seeing how the claws were curved and sharpened to a point. They were clean, white and that only served to add to their danger.

"But no more than most of us here." He continued looking up at me. "Just take a look at poor Herbert there." He indicated the creature cowering behind a broken chest of drawers at one corner of the room. "Come on out now, boy." The creature whimpered pitifully.

Despite myself, I leaned forward as it shuffled awkwardly towards the light, and hence could not stop the words escaping from my lips.

"Dear lord!" I recoiled back in horror almost immediately. Besides me, the man gave a small chuckle. "Striking, isn't he?" he said, while I stared in horror and repulsion.

It was a beast which stood hunched, its powerful hairy arms placed like an ape by its sides. Its entire body was covered in hair, and I shuddered when I spotted that its hands had massive claws, clearly meant for ripping and slashing. But the most terrifying aspect of the beast was its face; not like an ape's, more like wolf's; a powerful jaw drawn back to reveal rows of glistening teeth. Its ears were set at the back like a wolf or a dog. Its eyes stared ahead, white and opaque.

"Blind?" I whispered. The creature turned its head in direction of my voice and it uttered a low grunt.

"Hmm? Oh yes. We were forced to do it, you know. His hunting instincts were too strong. When he was hungry…" he laughed softly "Lets just say that it wasn't safe to be within a one mile radius of him." He looked at the creature in front of him. "Still an excellent hunter, aren't you, Herbert? Sense of smell and hearing is excellent. He can hear a spider walking in a crowded and noisy room." He held out and hand and gently touched Herbert's head. Herbert immediately arched into the embrace, crooning softly. I felt pity stir inside me. So desperate for affection, it went to the first hand that treated it kindly.

"Where did you find him?" I said, watching as Herbert closed his eyes and continued his soft crooning. His ears lay flat on his head and he did not look remotely frightening anymore.

The man gave a sharp smile like broken glass. "Matilda Briggs. She brought him and the Rat."

"The…Rat?" I looked at him I confusion, but he shook his head and pulled me up. "No time for question. We have to go."

"Go where?" The man gave a sharp nod to Herbert, who backed away into the shadows. He pulled me up the stairs.

"The Master wishes to see you." I was pushed along a long corridor. There were windows, but they were so coated with grime that scarcely any sunlight shone through. But my thoughts were interrupted when I was pushed through a small door.

The inside of the room looked like an eastern prince's court, cushions spread everywhere with rich hangings which brushed past my face as I stepped inside. But my attention was drawn by the man who rose gracefully to greet me as I entered.

I knew that face. Past the silver hair, past the gold earrings and past the narrowed violet eyes…. I_ knew the face._

"Peterson." I gasped.

**A/N: I'm so cliched. My entire description of Herbery is the most sterotypical monster description in the world. *sigh* Also people might have figured out by now that, _yes_, wolves are my favroite animals. *sigh again***

**Anyway, **

**If you liked please review! **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: And once again I'm back. *grin* I'm doing this a lot nowadays, really. **

Peterson looked back at me with a curious expression as I gaped at him.

Peterson was _alive_?!

Him, of all people! In this hideout of unnatural beings, why was _he _here?

Was Holmes right after all?

"Good day, Assistant Surgeon Watson." I jumped. It had been a long time since that title had been applied to me, but it was the tone which frightened me the most. Soft and smooth like velvet, hiding a peculiar danger. I felt a shiver run up my spine. Behind me, I heard my guide quietly exit.

Peterson had risen to his feet, and I recoiled as I finally realized how much he had changed. The hair when fell past his shoulders was silvered, yet he did not look a day older than when I had seen him last. His ears were pierced with gold ringlets and, most horrifying of all, his eyes had turned _violet_.

"Peterson-"I stammered, unable to find the words to speak, to utter my astonishment. But Peterson raised his hand, and my last will to speak vanished. It was as if I had been struck dumb.

"Dr. Watson." Again the soft musical, dangerous voice rang out in the room and something stirred behind him, though I could not tell what it was. "That is what it is now, isn't it?" Peterson smiled benignly at me.

I could only stare at him, unable to comprehend the situation. A slight frown marred his features at my continuing silence and he raised his hand. My neck was forced downwards and upwards in a approximate nod.

"That is better. I prefer good manners, which includes answering when you are spoken to."

With a jolt of shock, I realized that my voice had returned to me. "You silenced me." I croaked, massaging my throat, which was burning.

Peterson looked amused. "I merely wanted to test the extent of your powers. It seems you have not progressed very much if you cannot shield yourself against another's powers.

"I-what?"

He impatiently waved a hand. "All of our Order have the capability to protect themselves from the powers of beings like us. It is a capability which comes quite early. It is a latent ability in some…_humans_ also." He said the word 'human' with the same scorn as one would treat a particularly stubborn piece of dirt with. "How much have your powers progressed?"

I felt myself compelled to answer him. But I would not. Because I had suddenly realized the position I was in.

"You kidnapped me." I said hoarsely, and then felt the sudden strain on my voice. Peterson was frowning.

"Yes, I did." It was a statement of fact.

"Why?"

Again that indulgent smile. "Why, my dear doctor, have you not guessed?" He spread out his arms in a gesture of benevolence. "You are one of us! You belong in our order, your powers have already proved that!"

"My 'powers' were not given to me at birth." I said angrily still struggling with my voice. Peterson was still smiling with that smile that did not reach his eyes. "I am not like you!" I could not say why I felt so terrified at the thought of being one of them, but it was an excruciatingly frightening notion, being an outcast from society as long as I lived.

"So were mine, doctor." In the faint light, Peterson's eyes were momentarily white, opaque. "_So were mine._"

I could only stare at him for a moment before the implications of what he was saying finally broke onto me.

********************

**(Holmes's POV)**

I sat in the chair given to my, and studied my audience.

After all, it was not everyday that I get samples liken this. For a moment, it was almost like an interesting experiment, until I remembered the events that preceded them.

They were ranged in all age groups, from five to what I judged to be forty. The youngest of the group was a expressionless girl who stood, almost completely hidden, at the back. Her eyes were large and dark and…soulless. I am not given to emotional fantasies but that was the best way I could describe the group which stood around me. It was as if they had endured hardships beyond the scope of a normal man.

A normal _human, _I instantly corrected myself.

They numbered twenty in all, and looked mostly from the lower strata of society. None of them showed any obvious signs of their unnaturalities, except the woman who had admitted us, and Marfusus.

The woman interested me. After I had recovered from my first shock of seeing a woman covered in scales, with snake like features, who spoke in a hissing voice (I had never quite got over my childhood revulsion of snakes), I found her to be an intriguing study. Her name was Echidna. How apt.

The girl, Elizabeth, who had led us in was standing in the corner, fidgeting with a dirt stained handkerchief. She was the only one in the entire group who moved even a muscle. The rest were motionless, silent. Looking at me.

I kept my silence, and looked back at them. Two can play the game.

After a long silence which lasted approximately ten minutes, Marfusus spoke. "This is Dr. Watson's friend, Mr. Holmes," and though there was no visible movement in the gathering, the whole group's attention seemed to shift onto him, "He will be helping us in our crusade."

_Crusade?_ I glanced sharply at him, but his expression was blank, his demeanor calm.

"Mr. Holmes, eh?" A thick heavy set man from the back called out. He looked at me shrewdly. "Wouldn't be Mr. _Sherlock_ Holmes, would it?"

For the first time that day, the group stirred. Whispers broke out. A few turned and looked and spoke to their neighbors, but when Marfusus raised his hand silence fell once again.

"Yes, it is he." This time there was no response save that the intensity of their gaze's increased. I felt, for the first time, slightly uncomfortable. The looks were almost hostile.

"He has come to help us. He is Dr. Watson's friend, and as Dr. Watson is our friend, he is our's as well-" I was not the only one having started this time. The man at the back spoke up again, rising to his feet.

"_Our _friend?" he hissed. "_Our, _Marfusus? Do not push your authority too far. I have so far seen no reason to suppose why this unknown doctor will have any reason to be _our_ friend!" He spread out his arms. Some in the crowd nodded.

"Edgar." Said the girl, Elizabeth, nervously, but Edgar did not stop.

"You have gone too far with your antics now, Marfusus! First you risk our position and stability to find some fool of a doctor whom we have never met, and then you have the gall to suggest that we endanger our men to rescue him, and _now_, you bring on the ultimate risk of bringing an outsider to our hideout!"

The room was utterly silent.

I felt my anger rising to the surface like an striking snake. How dare they slander Watson? _How dare they!_ They were the entire reason that he was in the position that he was in now and-

But it seemed that my unspoken words were unnecessary. From the corner of the room there was a soft sound and someone slithered forward.

"Enough, Edgar."Echidna hissed. There was menace in her tone.

All the fire seemed to go out of Edgar. He drooped back to his position and never looked up, save to shoot a malovent glare at Marfusus and me. I looked back at him coolly.

"It seems," said Marfusus tiredly, and everyone looked at him, "It is time to tell the whole story after all."

**A/N: My whole worry is that if my Holmes POV was ok. Any suggestions anyone?**


	11. Chapter 11

The room was quiet as Marfusus spoke his words. The sea of faces turned towards him. To his right, he could see John's friend turn his face ever so slightly to observe him. He could see no expression in the face, but he had no doubt that he had attracted his interest.

He cleared his throat and began to speak.

_The event was as clear in his head as if it had happened yesterday. But it had been nearly twenty years since then…_

_The winter had been hard that year. Frost froze his fingers and turned his trembling lips blue. He was crouched over leaves, dark red diseased leaves that quivered against his shaking body. Through his half closed lids, he could see the village lying beyond the trees but he dared not approach it, the thin cloak he had on did nothing to hide his strangeness…_

_Footsteps on snow, drawing near. Then a child's voice sounded first in his head, then getting louder, and nearer…_

"_Are you all right? Can you hear me?"_

_Hazel eyes looked back at him, and he stared at them, their owner crouching over him, holding a blanket in his hand. A boy, older than him, though not by much, smiling at him._

"_I saw you from the road. Mama says not to go near people like you, but I think you're cold and I thought I should get you a blanket." Sudden warmth enveloped him, and he shivered as the boy stood up again, the blanket gone from his arms. _

"_You look better now. You shouldn't sit here, you'll catch a cold. Why don't you come outside?"_

_He had shook his head, terrified then, remembering the beatings and the stones, afraid even of this strange kind boy. He wasn't supposed to trust anyone, Victor had said, but Victor wasn't here now, he had lost Victor in a blizzard and he was alone…_

_The boy's tone had softened when he spoke next. "If you're afraid, then you don't need to go there. But you can't sit here. Here, come with me."_

_He remembered being pulled to his feet by a firm hand, and led away from the cold. He remembered collapsing on a cold wooden floor which was atleast warmer than the leaves outside. And then the blanket was drawn over him again and he lay shivering. _

"_This is a storehouse that we have." He heard the boy whispering. "Nobody ever comes here so you will be fine. Don't leave because if someone sees you they'll try to lock you up." He sat up and said matter of factdly. "I think it's because you don't look like us. But that's fine. I have a friend who can't walk properly because his legs are funny and everyone laughs at him but I don't think that's right. Its not his fault his legs are funny. Mama says we should always help such people. So I'm helping you." His tone was cheerful now. "My name's John. Whats yours?"_

_Through chattering teeth, he managed to stutter out his name. "Marfusus." _

"_Really? That's-" A cry sounded from outside. "Johnnie!"_

"_That'll be Mama. I have to go now. Its my turn to help her today." He got to his feet. "Stay here, alright? I'll be back today with some hot milk for you." Marfusus heard the pattering of footsteps as the boy left the room. _

_John. He murmured the name in his head. John, and hazel eyes. He would remember. He wouldn't forget. An angel who came to save him. _

_That night, there was a bowl of milk left for him. He remembered drinking it eagerly, the hunger making him greedier. But, even as he licked up the last drops he heard a faint howl in the distance. _

_Victor. Victor was alive._

_It was time to leave._

_The food had given him new found strength. He climbed out of the window and staggered into the forest eventually gaining speed. Once, he stopped and looked back at the gathering darkness and the tiny pinpricks of lights in the houses…_

_I'll remember you, John. I won't forget. And when we meet again, I'll be the one to help _you.

_And then he ran._

_Twenty years later, he found a name, when researching about this Master, who had taken his brother away. The Master had been in the army, he knew that. And in a list of names he found :John Hamish Watson. _

_And then he knew. _

The room was quiet when Marfusus finished. He stared straight ahead at the wall, his mouth dry of further words. From the corner of his eye, he saw Edgar view him with deep skeptiscism. Elizabeth looked nearly tearful. Echidna was expressionless, though her mouth twitched upwards in what Marfusus assumed to be approval.

And John's friend sat there with an unreadable expression in his grey eyes, still and quiet. And nobody else in the room moved.

And then little Elsie ,in the front row, gave a small nod with her head. Acknowledgement, her dark eyes seemed to say. Marfusus returned the gesture.

The atmosphere in the room relaxed. 

***************************************

Holmes sat in the room given him, and thought.

That was an interesting story he had just heard.

So, Marfusus _had_ met Watson before, had he? Interesting. And Watson had saved his life.

That was very…typical of Watson. Dependable, at every point of need.

He closed his eyes, and the image of his friend's body swam up in front of him, collapsed on the floor, blood triclikng dowm from the side of his mouth-

_No!_

He would not remember that now!

There was a sound beside him., then a hiss. "Do you wish to east ssssomething, Mr. Holmesss?"

Ah. Echidna. There was a clink as whatever she was carrying was put down on the floor. Then the slither once again.

He opened his eyes. "Wait."

Echidna turned around. "Yessss?"

"There's something….I need to ask."

Echidna eyes, snake like, flashed once and she gave an eerie smile. "Yessss. I know."

**A/N: I'm afraid my updates are going to be really slow this year, what with school and all. Thanks to everyone who stuck up with me till this chapter!**


	12. Chapter 12

Echidna looked the man sitting by her side. He was tall, thin to the point of gauntness. His eyes were calculating and hard, yet she could sense unknown depths in them. She could sense intelligence and a mind that was not to be reckoned with.

She smiled a little.

Sherlock Holmes noticed her smile and his eyes narrowed. But he did not speak.

It was a challenge. On her territory.

Despite herself, Echidna was impressed. And very amused.

How many centuries had it been since someone last challenged her?

"What do you wish to asssk?"

Holmes turned towards the wall. "Questions. Everything about beings such as you. Any information is valuable to me."

"Why asssk me? Marfusussss can answer you equally."

He gave her a glance from the corner of his eyes. "I suspect he will not know what I need as well as you do."

She allowed herself a tiny smile. As she had suspected. A worthy opponent.

"Very well."

"We were three sisterssss. I do not know who was the oldest, or youngesssst. We were one and yet single."

Holmes interrupted. "Three? Are you a separate species then?"

Echidna's lips quirked up. "Not that I know of. There were only usss three, and no more."

"You do not know of your parents?"

"The earth wassss our mother and the sky our father. We had them and each other. We needed no more."

"How long ago was this?"

Echidna laughed."Aeonssss ago, child. I am old enough to have known far anscestorsss of yoursss and yet I will outlive you by far." She chuckled again. "Humansss are a delicate speciesss."

"You are several centuries old?" To her surprise, there was only a slight skepticism in the tone. Perhaps he was learning to accept this world.

"Oh yesss. And far older."

Holmes was silent. She continued.

"Asss I said, the earth fed usss and the sky watered ussss. We lived where both united, at the hollow of life. And we watched humanssss from afar, earth's playthingssss. They were amusing. And ssso vulnerable." The picture was clear in her mind, the vast open plains, the high mountains, the pinpricks of life on them, humans and cattle.

"My sisterssss and I spent our life there. And it came our notice that several humansss no longer matched our observationssss." She spread her arms. "The sort you find here."

"They had started to appear from that long ago."

"Yessss."

"Why?"

"How will I know the answer to that, child?" She shrugged. "They were the earth'sss playthingssss."

Holmes's eyes darkened. But he did not speak.

"The othersss chased them away. Humansss, it seemed, cannot accept thossse different from them. They chased them and killed them." Her voice was sad. "Many times over."

"My sisytersss could not stand this. I was lesser, how do you sssay it, _outgoing_, yesss, outgoing then them. They went to help the humansss. And they were killed too."

There was silence. Holmes spoke finally. "Forgive me, " he said, "I did not wish to intervene on a personal grief."

"Happened many yearsss ago. The pain hasss ceased. They returned to the earth, after all. But I was now alone. And I had understood how vulnerable I was, after seeing my sistersss death."

"So you hid yourself?"

"For centuriesss. In a dark cave. Storiessss were written about me. About a monssster who could turn people to stone by looking into their eyes. About the Lord of all monsters." She smiled then. "I chose the lattersss name. It seemed much more suitable. And, besidesss, I did not like humansss much now." After a pause, she added. "I still do not."

"Why have you come out now?"

"Now? I came out agesss ago. More of changes humansss were appearing. I did not make my sistersss mistake . I did not rush to save them blindly. I…._collected them_. Slowly carefully, year after year, imbibing them with my blood. Making them-"

"Immortal?" Holmes's voice was sharp.

The concept amused her. "Immortal? I don't think ssso. I don't know. But they will _endure."_

"Therefore, some of these people here are-"

"-more than a few centuriessss old as well. Not assss old as me, but not too old either."

"And him? The man who took Watson?"

"Ah yes. Victor. The Massster'sss minion."

"Who is the Master?"

"Patience!" His impatice amused her even more. Humans were such a bundle of emotions. She sometimes wondered how they could not explode with so many inside their head. "He is a…separate thing."

"What do you mean?"

"Humanssss are not the only onesss who change. Animalssss change asss well. Monkeysss, dogsss, catsss, rodentsss." Her smile widened. "Especially rodents."

"Whatever do you mean?" Anger was thinly veiled in those eyes.

Echidna smiled. " I refer, of course, to the Great Rat of Sumatra, which is currently in the Mastersss possession."

**A/N: I did warn you this was going to turn into a fantasy combination sci fi fic. So put those rotten tomatoes away! *ducks***


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